


our secret moment in a crowded room

by thelilacfield



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Burlesque, F/M, Las Vegas, Meet-Cute, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28894980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilacfield/pseuds/thelilacfield
Summary: "So, level with a groom-to-be - who's the redhead? My friend here has not stopped staring at her since she strutted out.""Hey Glamour! You've got a fan!"
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 5
Kudos: 97





	our secret moment in a crowded room

**A/N:** *cough* Yes, I am posting two smut fics about twelve hours apart. I have decided my contribution to the fandom will be AU/excuse for smut fics based on the wardrobe choices of _WandaVision_. Really, they knew what they were doing. Enjoy! Leave a comment if you do! :)

I'm on twitter and tumblr **@mximoffromanoff** if anyone wants to chat about all things scarletvision!

 **Disclaimer:** I've never been to Vegas or a burlesque show. Hence the vague descriptions :)

* * *

"I promised Carol no strip clubs," Rhodey says fretfully as Tony drags them through the doorway, and he sighs.

"It's a burlesque show, not a strip club," he says, and gestures widely around the room. "See, Pep says the way to tell the difference is how many women are here. There's a bachelorette party over there!"

"How do you know it's a bachelorette party?" Vision asks, eyeing the group of overexcited women in their glitter and heels, raising champagne glasses that wink in the low light.

"The blonde is wearing a bride to be sash," Tony says, as their escort sweeps her hand out to their booth and hands them drinks menus, giving Vision an appraising look that makes him blush. "Why didn't you get me a groom to be sash? I'm offended, honestly, you're not doing any of this right."

"Tony, for the love of God, you are almost forty," Rhodey says, and grins at the waitress. Vision leans back in the booth, out of his depth in the loud, dimly-lit room, looking ahead to the stage.

"You should be taking advantage of these girls checking you out," Tony says, breaking through his reverie, and he ducks his head and blushes. "That waitress would give you her number if you asked."

"I'm not looking for anything-"

"You are the only single friend at a bachelor weekend in _Vegas_ , you are practically _required_ to get laid," Tony says, and Vision buries his burning face in a glass of whiskey.

"Tony, leave him alone," Bruce says gently, and Vision shoots him a grateful glance. "Just because you want him to do Vegas like you did at _Rhodey's_ bachelor party-"

"Hey, that is the weekend we do not speak of," Tony says, and Rhodey smirks.

"But it's my favourite story-"

"Oh, look, the show is starting!" Tony says, a little too loudly, gesturing to the velvet curtains sweeping aside as music fills the room. The bachelorette party sitting near them screams in excitement, and Vision catches the eye of one of the women and gives her a small, shy smile.

Tony is enjoying himself, and that's all that really matters. Vegas isn't exactly Vision's sort of place, too loud and bright and running on money and alcohol, but he's gamely playing along for the weekend. He doesn't even like whiskey, but it does seem to be the drink of choice for the evening. The women onstage are beautiful, grinning at the crowd and he feels himself loosening up, chuckling under his breath when Rhodey hollers for the dancers.

He only straightens up when another dancer struts onto stage, already smirking at the audience. And he stares at her, the red shine of her leotard catching the stage lights, impossibly long legs in fishnets and heels, her wink to one of the women in the front row. And he doesn't realise how hard he's staring until Tony cackles and says, "Steady, big guy."

He can't take his eyes off her for the rest of the show, ignoring the refill of whiskey their waitress sets down in front of him with a hopeful smile. There's poetry in the way she moves, her red hair shining beneath the spotlights, her smile. The dancers are bright and bubbly, their energy infectious, and one shimmies to their table when Rhodey wolf-whistles, giving them a smile. She's stunning, dark hair spilling down her back, but Vision can't drag his eyes away from the redhead, talking to the bachelorette party. "You guys having fun?" the dark-haired dancer asks, and Tony is grinning.

"It's my bachelor weekend," he says, and the dancer laughs and smiles.

"You should've brought the fiancée, we love couples coming to the show together," she says.

"So, level with a groom-to-be," Tony says, "who's the redhead?" Vision flushes, protest caught in his throat, and Tony gives one of his trademark shit-eating grins. "My friend here has not stopped staring at her since she strutted out."

The dancer grins, her eyes gleaming, and shouts, "Hey Glamour! You've got a fan!"

The redhead bounces over to them, and Vision's mouth is so dry when he tries to say, "Hi," it comes out a croak, and she giggles. Her top hat is tilted at a rakish angle, her lips red and her eyes so green under the sweeps of eyeliner and glitter, and he clears his throat, taking a hasty sip of whiskey. "You were very good."

"Oh, thank you, honey," she says, and he can feel the heat flooding his face. The way she's smiling at him is making his insides twist with heat, and he's determinedly keeping his eyes on her face, not thinking about her legs or her hips or the shadow of her cleavage in that costume. "You guys in town for the weekend?"

"My bachelor party," Tony says proudly, and she smiles slightly. Vision stares at her, helpless. Glamour has to be a stage name, obviously, but still. It's a name to put to that very pretty face.

"Where are you staying?" she asks. "Did you come a long way out for us?"

"The Bellagio," Rhodey puts in helpfully, and his friends are all grinning, and Vision is trying not to bury his burning face in his hands.

"Well, enjoy the finale," she says, and Vision must be imagining it. Girls like her don't give him hot glances under their lashes before they walk away, swinging their hips. But Tony is beaming, and knocking him on the shoulder so hard he flops into the plush seating.

"If you don't get her number, I am firing you when we get back to the office," he says, and Vision groans in embarrassment and sinks down into the booth.

* * *

The fountains dance behind him, and he takes a sip of wine. Bruce went to bed as soon as their driver dropped them back at the hotel, and even though Tony and Rhodey stayed up longer to mercilessly rib Vision for not getting the dancer's number, even they have sloped off upstairs. He's left alone at the bar, drinking wine and wishing he was the kind of person who would have been brave enough to ask for the beautiful, funny, charming dancer's number.

He looks up, and blinks. It must be some kind of dream. Glamour cannot be standing watching the fountains, not far away, and looking up and catching his eye and smiling. She's wearing the same heels, sashaying towards him and sliding onto the stool next to him. "Hi," she says quietly. "You know, I never got your name earlier."

"Vision," he says, and she smiles.

"I thought I was the one with the stage name," she says, and his cheeks flush.

"It's a nickname that stuck," he says softly, and the way she's smiling at him makes the world tilt on its axis. "So...Glamour is a stage name?"

"Please, what kind of hippy-dippy parents would actually name their daughter _Glamour_?" she asks, and he cracks a small smile, a breath of a laugh. He's overwhelmed by her, those legs still in fishnets beneath the hem of her dark coat, her hair curling loosely over her collar, and her smile and her eyes in the starlight. "I'm Wanda."

"It's very nice to meet you, Wanda," he says softly. He glances around them, the quiet, and asks, "What brings you here so late?"

"I usually try to pass the fountains and watch them for a while on my walk home," she says, and shifts on the stool, smirking slightly. "And then I saw you sitting here, and it felt like fate."

"I-"

"By the time I got offstage earlier, you and those loud friends of yours had already left," she says, and gives him a pout that calls out to be kissed away. "I wanted to ask for your number."

"You... _did_? Wanda...I couldn't-"

"Oh God." She jerks away from him, the fingers he'd only just registered curling over his wrist falling away and leaving him bereft. "Have I read this all wrong? Are you taken?" She glances down at his bare hand, and narrows her eyes. "Are you one of those assholes who takes your wedding ring off in Vegas?"

"No, _no_ , I...I'm single," he says, and her eyes brighten again. Her fingers slide down his wrist, toying with his cufflinks, and he grits his teeth against the urge to draw her into his arms. "But...I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have been flirting with you while you were working, you are paid to be nice to your customers, it was inappropriate-"

"Oh, honey, I've had much worse from significantly less cute," she says, and he blushes. "Vision?" He glances up at her, his name soft and perfect in her voice, and she's smiling at him. "Are you attracted to me?"

" _Yes_ ," he breathes, and those perfect, crimson-painted lips curl into a smirk.

"And if I said you could sleep with me tonight, what would you say?" she asks, and his hand clenches hard on the stem of his wine glass.

"But-"

"You're not sharing a room, are you?" she asks, and he shakes his head, trying not to stare at her. Not to think about her on that stage, the spotlights caught in her curves, her eyes blazing. "Then there's nothing stopping us. If you want to."

"We barely know each other-"

"When in Vegas," she says, and grins at him. "I know you're the sexiest customer I've ever seen in that club. I want you."

"Oh _God_ ," he groans, and she leans over the gap between their stools to press her mouth to his. It's an electric first kiss, her lips warm and slick with lipstick on his, her hand curving over his thigh to balance her between the stools, and he reaches a hand up to tangle in her hair.

"Take me to bed, Vision," she breathes against his mouth, and he laces their fingers together and throws a bill down on the bar, dragging her into the hotel and the elevator.

She presses him back against the wall when the doors sweep closed and they're alone, her tongue in his mouth and her hand tugging at his shirt, pulling it out of the waistband of his slacks, and he clutches at her, sagging back against the railing. " _Wanda_ ," he breathes, and feels the curl of her smirk against his neck. "I don't...I _never_ do this, I-"

"Just follow my lead," she says, and the elevator doors swing open, and she takes his key card from his pocket and pulls him down the corridor to his room, pulling him into a kiss as she kicks the door closed behind them.

"You don't have to sleep with me," he says softly, and she pulls out of the kiss, hands on her hips and arching an eyebrow at him. "We can just-"

"I don't want _just_ ," she says, and unbuttons her coat, dropping it into a pile on the ground. She's still wearing the leotard, and he groans as she smirks. "I normally change after the shows, but I was hoping that this really cute guy might still like what he sees."

"I do," he breathes, and wraps his hands around her waist, drawing her closer. Her eyes are bright in his hotel room, she's _beautiful_ , and his head spins with the scent of her perfume when he leans down towards her and breathes, " _God_ , I _do_ ," over her lips.

She's tugging at his blazer, tossing it aside, and he doesn't feel any need to stop and fold his clothes. That's what she does to him, so thoroughly distracting, and before he knows it she's in his arms, her legs tangled around him, her heels falling to the carpet with two dull thuds before he lowers them onto the bed, awkwardly reaching down to untie his shoes and tug off his socks as she kisses at his neck. "You're so _sexy_ ," she breathes, and he leans down to capture her mouth again.

He thanks whatever deity is watching over him for the condoms in the nightstand drawer, for this unbelievably beautiful woman flipping them so she's straddling his hips and pulling his hands to the zip of her costume. When he peels the leotard off her, she smirks at his gasp of, " _Wanda_ ," and leans down to kiss him, her breasts pushing into his chest, her hands in his hair. He's being crazy, he knows he is, he's sleeping with a girl he barely knows, but he doesn't want to stop. He never wants this moment to end.

She rolls the condom onto him and sinks down, and he grabs for her hips, gasping her name. She shifts on top of him, setting him alight, and smiles down at him, hair curling around her pretty face and her hands spread wide on his chest. "Perfect," she breathes, and rocks her hips into him, and his eyes fall closed, his fingers curling into the sheets.

When she softly cries his name for the first time, he reaches for her, fingers in her hair pulling her down into a kiss, their sweat-slick bodies rocking together, her whimpers muffled against his lips. He slides a hand down between them and she cries out, her slender fingers wrapping around his wrist and encouraging him. They're sharing breath when she shudders and comes with a moan of his name, and he raises his head to capture her swollen lips in a kiss, losing himself in the wonder of her.

She darts away to the bathroom to clean herself up, and he rolls onto his side, staring at the clock on the nightstand and trying to reconcile what he just did. He ties off the condom and throws it away, and she's back, smiling and soft as she lays herself down on his chest, tracing circles into his skin. "You were as good as I thought you'd be," she says, and he ducks his head, a pleased but embarrassed smile on his lips.

"You...you were good too," he says, and she smiles and kisses him. It's soft and sweet, and feels so tender that it's almost as if they aren't two people who slept together less than five hours after meeting. "Wow. Honestly. Wow."

"You're making me blush," she teases, and slides off him to curl into his side, her head on his chest. His hand naturally finds her hair, fingers running through the soft auburn strands, and she sighs contentedly. "Maybe I could come see you after work tomorrow night too."

"We're flying back to Manhattan in the afternoon," he says mournfully, and she lifts her head, eyes bright.

"You live in Manhattan?" she asks, and he nods. "Me too! I'm a student at NYU!"

"A... _student_?" he asks, startling away from her in horror. How could he have overlooked asking how old she was before he slept with her, or asking anything really. He was so caught up in her he forgot to ask, and now he's slept with someone ten years his junior, he's a _creep_ -

"A _doctoral_ student, honey," she says, pulling him back to her side. "I'm twenty-seven. How old are you?"

"Thirty," he says, and she grins.

"I've got a month left dancing here, making the money to pay my fees," she says. "But when I get back to Manhattan, I'm just a student in a shitty apartment making shitty money serving shitty coffee. What do you do?"

"I work for Stark Industries," he says, and she grins.

"It _was_ dark at work, but I fucking _knew_ that was Tony Stark you were with," she says. "So...do you want me to call you when I get back to New York?"

"I would like that very much, Wanda," he says softly, and she smiles as she leans in to kiss him.


End file.
